


Thursday

by theleaveswant



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: BDSM, Begging, Competency, Consensual Kink, Cooking, First Time, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-24
Updated: 2011-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/pseuds/theleaveswant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anton and Karl negotiate their upcoming first scene (of the kink variety) together over dinner</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thursday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [garden_hoe21](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=garden_hoe21).



> for the fifth round of the Five Acts meme

“So, Thursday.” Anton paused, his knife hovering for a moment above the halved, seeded pepper on the cutting board before he pressed it down with a crunch. He flicked a glance over his shoulder without interrupting the steady rocking rhythm of the knife flashing through the pepper's wet, red flesh. “What exactly do you want to do?”

“I don't know.” Perched rigidly on a stool at the raised kitchen table, Karl chewed on an uneven fingernail and watched Anton's back move beneath the fabric of his shirt.

“Okay, how do you want to start?”

Karl shrugged. “You're the expert.”

Anton wrinkled his nose as he scraped the slivered peppers into the already spitting, fragrant wok. “I'm not, though. That's not how this works. Every player is responsible for bringing his or her or zir relevant experience, desires, and limitations to the table. It's my responsibility as the top to guide the scene, to a degree, but it's basically a collaborative process, before and during.” He turned towards Karl, wiping his hands on the black apron that looked, on him and in this kitchen, more professional than matronly, before reaching past him for his water glass. He held the glass in front of his lips and paused again before saying, “there's an important distinction between submissive and passive,” then drank.

Karl sighed, watching Anton's throat as he swallowed. “I don't want to know exactly what's coming, though. I want to . . . I like this, feeling a little afraid.”

“Afraid of me?” Anton asked, eyes wide and innocent. He slipped into the Russian accent and pouted, wounded and disingenuous. “You don't trust me?”

Karl smiled. “I do. That's the part that worries me.”

“You remember the safeword talk from when we were still speaking in generalities, right? And we both have safe calls in place. That, and the limits that we talk about now, give us a safety net. Within that . . .” Anton grinned and went back to the stove, picking up his chef's knife and twirling it deftly. “I'll find ways of shaking your tightrope.”

“I want to feel helpless,” Karl told Anton's back. “Vulnerable. Can we . . . can you surprise me, take me down suddenly and force me to take my clothes off?”

“You want me to overpower you?”

Anton looked over his shoulder, eyebrows raised, his gaze flicking up and down Karl's crouched frame. Karl nodded acknowledgement, then licked his lips. “If you had a weapon . . .”

He pointed his chin towards the knife in Anton's hand. Anton pursed his lips.

“I don't know. That's pretty edgy stuff for a first scene, and something I haven't got a lot of practice with. Although . . .” His eyes danced as he looked back towards his living room, and his mouth twitched in wily mirth. “I think I know a way to achieve the same effect, without as much risk.”

“Prop knife?”

“Shh! Leave those details to me. So you want me to force you down and make you strip, with threats. Then what? Can I remind you at all that you asked for this situation and that you can end it, or do we pretend that it's completely nonconsensual? Because again, that's heading into some extreme territory for me.”

“Remind me. Make me ask for more, that can be our signal to go forward.”

“Ooh, I like that!” Anton grinned through a cloud of steam as he drained the noodles over the sink. “Do you want me to make you beg?”

Karl nodded enthusiastically. “Make me ask nicely, pretty pleases and all that.”

“Ask for what?”

“Hmm.” Karl sucked his teeth. “Ask you to spank my arse red? And . . . a cane? One of the ones you showed me before.”

“I ken do zat.” Anton tapped his feet excitedly on the floor as he began to toss the noodles together with the other ingredients in the wok. “I was thinking we'd start in the living room; do you want to stay there or go to the bedroom?”

“Either way. I'm fine with staying in the living room if you want to.”

“Curtains wide open so the neighbors can watch?”

“Um . . . no.”

Anton cackled as he plated the meal. “So you do have some limits, then. I'm glad.”

“Whenever we do move to the bedroom, though—”

“You want me to make you crawl?”

“Yes!”

“Karl,” Anton said, beaming, as he dropped a shallow bowl full of hot, aromatic food in front of him and hopped up onto the stool at his elbow, “I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”


End file.
